


in which i accuse you of making me love you

by thedorkygirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedorkygirl/pseuds/thedorkygirl
Summary: I was vulnerable:in love; intoxicated;recently rejected by a rebound.





	in which i accuse you of making me love you

I was vulnerable:  
in love; intoxicated;  
recently rejected by a rebound.  
I told you I didn't want to fuck every time we met  
"This isn't fucking, this is making love."

When you smile, your eyes crinkle,  
and the light blinds me.  
I see no evil; I forget to fear.

Remember when I would leave your car,  
lean beyond my messed hair,  
say with a tease, "See you next weekend,"  
then not look back as I left you?  
It was my excuse for you when I didn't hear from you  
till week's end.

I didn't keep you on back burner;  
I kept you in the moment.  
Never thinking of you when I shouldn't,  
and speaking your name only when you were in the room.

The physical feeling of tempering feelings  
is to press a brick on your chest.  
Thinking of you and wanting you was as easy as breathing,  
and so I held my breath.

After the morning-after slipped into evening,  
blindness bled away from me,  
and in the mirror was a stranger I had left behind.  
One who could not care and would not wallow.

I knew the game. Before,  
when I'd found myself drunk on you,  
I held my breath and drowned myself in separation.  
Refusing to care if you called,  
because I'd told you not to.

But this was the year I'd died,  
remediable with prescription.  
I'd kept a little part of me gone,  
and when I could take it all, I began again.

I promised myself that I was new and whole.

After I was determined to be different from before.  
I tried to open myself to opportunity  
as I'd opened my legs to you,  
but you were closed and locked,  
leaving me gasping for air.

Likely I prepared this attitude,  
conditioned you to distance yourself  
when I ran circles around you this summer.  
I tried to explain now - I was new and whole;  
I had an ounce of pride.

I'd behaved my worst to you,  
but please believe in another blindness.  
I would have tried anything else to fix myself  
had I known how little I could care  
without even trying.

In desperation I gulped the heavens  
and received silence.  
I didn't make you my god,  
because no matter how much I can wish,  
I can't believe when I can't breathe.

After you faded ghost-like from me  
busy busy busy  
I was spirited away to memory.

I felt - I felt and breathed and found it lacking  
because all was foul, dirty, impure.  
I was disgusted with myself for having believed the lie.  
It wasn't making love.  
We fucked.

Asked why I liked you for the first time,  
I'd replied in girlish enthusiasm,  
"He has pretty eyes." The recollected smile  
had burned a blush across my cheeks.  
"Oh Lord," she'd said.


End file.
